The Golden State
by Not So Tempramental Artist
Summary: There was something about America that made California trust him. His eyes were so full of life yet they were so understanding.
1. Earthquake

**Authors Note: Hello! Not So Tempramental Artist here. This is actually my very first fanfiction, so please be gentle when rating and reviewing. The setting of the story is California during the gold rush. I believe that at the time California was a territory. Please correct me if i'm wrong though. Anyway, as always rate and review! I plan on adding more oneshots to this by the way, so make sure to keep a look out. Hugs and Snuggles~Artist**

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The crackling fire sent waves of warmth and comfort to the small girl. She felt safe here, nestled in between her owners left arm and his chest. She found herself nuzzling into his chest occasionally, disturbing the small knickknacks in his breast pocket.

The silence in the room made it seem as if they were the only two in the world. Each of his distinct heartbeats reached through the shirt, slowly numbing the pain from earlier.

It was the fate of a territory to be fought over. It was pure luck that she ended up with such a kind owner to control her. Her owner, no, her country, was kind and gentle. And yet, he was more than a country. He was her big brother, her protector, her guardian and father. He was her world. He was her moon and sun, singing softly to her when she was scared and smiling like a child who had been given his first gun.

He was strong and handsome; his new glasses complimenting his childlike face rather well. She smiled as she thought of him. Kind, fun, strong. She was happy as long as he was. This of course was never a problem, seeing as he was always smiling.

"California?" he asked, looking at her with his soft sky blue eyes.

"Hm?" She replied, still lost in the moment.

"You feeling any better?"

"Uh huh." She nodded and closed her eyes of the same shade as his. "I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

"About you." California snuggled into his slightly muscular chest a little, relishing the fact that she was the only one in his world right now.

Said country smiled a chuckled a little, letting his glasses slip down the bridge of his nose. "Are you thinking about how heroically I saved you? Or just how amazing I am?"

California murmured in what was a sort of an agreement.

Something about him solidified her trust. Perhaps it was his eyes, so full of life despite pain he may have gone through. Or maybe it was the way his face was shaped, or his brow line. No matter what it was, she trusted him with her life.

"America?" California whimpered a little. "What if it happens again? It's never been this bad before. I'm frightened." She whispered softly, as if the terrifying experience would happen again if she spoke too loudly.

"Don't worry Cali." America smiled and ruffled California's golden hair. "I'm a hero, so I'll protect you." He let out his soon to be trade mark smile before sleepily letting out a yawn.

California sniffled a little and closed her eyes, losing herself in the warmth of the fire and the absolute safety of America's arms. While she was here, in the small cabin that she called home next to the river where humans and countries alike panned for gold, she was safe. And for as long as she was nestled into America's strong figure like a kitten with their mother, she knew she would be content. He would protect her like a mother bear to whom saving their young was as unquestioned as breathing.

He would protect her from the intimidating miners and shield her from the daunting gunfights in town. He would give the shirt off his back to keep her warm. And he would never, ever leave. California fell in and out of sleep, slightly struggling to keep herself awake so that she could enjoy this moment a little longer. Finally it was too much and she let herself fall into the welcoming darkness.

America smiled. Now she was asleep he had time to think. He looked at the strips of cloth wrapped around California and sighed. Blood was starting to seep through the makeshift bandages.

It had happened so suddenly. As usual, the two were panning in the river for gold. Suddenly a large flock of birds flew away. Dogs barked and a deep rumble could be heard. His elbow started to hurt, as if he had been pinched. The earth below them started to tremble and it was in that moment that Hell found its way to earth.

California started to cry as the world shook violently. Trees quaked and the river water sloshed as the land below them gave its protest. Tents fell and miners shouted, desperately trying to find out what was happening.

California gasped and sucked in air, terrified and covered with dirt and blood. Then, as quick as it had come, it disappeared.

America carried the trembling child into the cabin and lit a fire to try to comfort her. He then went to his room and tore one of his shirts into strips, wrapping it around the frightened territory. He found himself shaking a little as he washed the blood from her hair with the little water left in the bucket beside the house. His breath shook as he combed the crusty bits of blood out of her golden locks.

He was a hero, he wasn't supposed to get scared. Even so, he was still no more than a teenager. He stopped shaking. When his states and territories were hurt, they would look to him for comfort. He couldn't be afraid when they were depending on him.

The process he went through was much like when a child gets hurt. The mother is terrified for them but remains calm, knowing that the child is looking to them for support. It is this loving passion that drove him to fear and calm.

'I wonder'_. _He thought, eyes going to the fireplace. 'Was England like this when I got hurt?'

He knew he had to leave eventually. There were other states and territories to take care of. For now though, he would stay. California needed a hero like him to be there. He protectively wrapped his arm around the small child.

'When you become a state, I'll call you the golden state. And I know you'll be strong like me someday.'


	2. Oregon

The dusty roads and the rocky trails. All were in his name. The Oregon Trail, a treacherous path whose sweltering summers and frigid winters took many lives. The Oregon Trail. A road to riches, a road to California.

This fact constantly bothered Oregon. Why not just call it the California trail if that was where everyone was heading? It annoyed the young child and gave him reasons to dislike the younger state. He didn't like her for many reasons. Once of which being that America now spent most of his time with her. Oregon soon found that he could no longer take it. Why, California didn't even belong to America at first! She used to be Mexican! He had to see her, to meet her, to find out what made her so special.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The pine trees swayed in the breeze as Oregon stood in front of the cabin. Her cabin. Nearby people listlessly panned for gold in the afternoon light. The shallow river seemed perfectly calm.

'So what?' Oregon thought unhappily, 'I have gold too…' He let out a discontented huff. The tapping of his small fist against the door sounded unnaturally hollow. It was as if there was no life inside.

The door opened slowly, a small girl peeking out from behind it. "H-hello? Who are you?"

Oregon had heard many of the other states voices. They represented the land and people as much as their physical bodies. One could close their eyes and listen to the people as New York spoke. It was easy to hear the winds over the plains whenever Kansas told a story. However, California was different. Her voice was the song of bells and the rustling of sage bushes. It was the waves lapping against the beach and the miners praying for luck. It contained the harshness of gunfights and the calm of newly fallen snow. It was her voice. It was California.

Looking at her, the golden haired angel with tears in her sapphire eyes, Oregon felt a tug at his heartstrings. Why was he so angry earlier? He couldn't quite remember.

"Who are you?" California asked once again weakly.

"I, er, oh right. Um, I'm Oregon." He completely forgot what he was going to say. Wasn't he going to yell at her? To do something? What was it again? Every well planned word was erased from his mind. "H-Have you seen Papa?" He referred to America, the only common ground the two seemed to have.

"Do you mean Big Brother America?" California sniffled. "You… you have his eyes. Are you a state too?"

"Yeah. My house is just North of yours." Why did she call America Big Brother? Oh right, she used to belong to Mexico.

"I haven't seen him…" Her eyes started to swell with the beginning of tears. "Not since he left with a bunch of others for Nevada. There's lots of silver there so…" She stepped out of the doorway and closed the door behind her.

Oregon put a hand on her shoulder. Dear God that the settlers keep forcing upon him, if she started to cry he would feel like a complete ass. "H-hey, it'll be okay." He said soft as possible, a gentle wind ruffling his unkept brown hair. "Papa will be back. He just…" Oregon looked at California. "He just has a new state to take care of, that's all."

California looked up at him shyly. "America needed to protect you from all of the bad people here, but you can take care of yourself now." Oregon smiled. "Nevada probably can't protect themselves yet. They need America. I know it can get lonely… But I can visit! Will that make it better?" Please, pleasepleaseplease make it better.

California nodded and smiled. "Do you promise to visit?"

"Of course!" How could he not?

"Promise? Cross your heart?" California said forcefully, a look of determination in her eyes.

"Cross my heart."


	3. Starfall

**A/N- Wow, I sure updated fast! In this story Oregon and California are about twelve in appearence and mental state.**

**I also don't own Hetalia.**

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He could see the world in her eyes. As they traveled through the forests or combed the beaches for shells he could see it. Those deep blue pools, reflecting the ocean.

Her hair, her long soft golden hair. The hair of angels that just might break of he touched it. It shone with all of the hidden treasures under their feet.

She sang the songs of miners and of nature. Her anger, the force of the earthquakes and the sea. Her joy, the blooming of poppies and of new life. Her hope, the dreams of the thousands who had once put all of their trust in her land.

She was the sea. She was the mountains. She was the deserts and the trees and the sage bushes that sent their scent wafting through the air. She was California.

Yet what was he? Who was Oregon? He was also the sea and the mountains. He was the forests, yet he was overlooked. He was Oregon. He wasn't a golden haired angel. He was a boy with blue eyes and unkept brown hair. And he was perfectly fine with this.

As he played with California; hiking through the mountains, making daisy crowns; he found himself less and less lonely. With every imaginary world they lived in, each song they sang, his sadness dissipated. She became his friend, his everything. Yet as years passed, he felt them growing more and more distant. He had started to become taller, his legs a little longer, his steps a bit more awkward. She however, only became taller and prettier. She wasn't beginning to fumble when walking. She remained as graceful as ever. The daisy crowns became a less frequent accessory; the hikes became shorter.

Oregon knew he was partially at fault for this. He had recently found it harder and harder to be around her. Every time he heard her bell-like laughter he felt as if his heart was dead set on breaking out of his body. His chest would tighten and his stomach would turn. Still, even with this he wanted to see her. He just didn't know why he didn't want to see her at the same time.

They were friends weren't they? So why did he feel so weird around her? At one point America visited him. Without specifying who it was, Oregon told America about the symptoms of being around his friend. America simply smiled, laughed, and ruffled Oregons' hair. There was not much talk about the subject afterwards.

These thoughts and memories lingered in Oregons' mind as he walked to his and Californias' favorite meadow. It was high up on a mountain. It shouldn't have been there, but California always had things like this in her land. Oregon sat down in the soft grass and sighed a little. California had told them that they needed to meet that night, no matter what. Wiping his hands on his worn work pants, he anxiously awaited Californias' arrival.

She appeared, wearing the pale blue dress he had once made her. "Oregon!" She cheerfully called his name and trotted over, her hair gleaming as the last rays of the sun hit her just right.

What now? Years ago they would have immediately done something. She would have led him off somewhere and he would follow happily. Oregon hoped they would explore. It would mean that he didn't have to talk and make a fool of himself.

California sat down, fixing her dress so that it wouldn't get wrinkled. "Do you know what tonight is?" She asked, smiling.

"Tuesday?" He honestly replied.

"It's the night that you can see a lot of falling stars! America told me about it once. Tonight is supposed to be when you can see them the best."

And so they waited for the meteor shower to begin. Oregon lay back to watch the stars, grateful for the cool air to chill the heat rising up to his face. California yawned. "Do you want to go home?" Oregon asked, "I don't mind."

"Nope. I'm not going to miss this for anything." Was her reply.

A few hours passed before the heavens above them changed. The first meteor, a brilliant blue, whizzed across the sky. Oregon smiled widely, awestruck by the momentary beauty. Californias' gasp only made it all the more exciting. A gentle breeze blew past as another meteor lit ablaze.

"Isn't it pretty?" California said dreamily. "I'm sure… Big Brother is watching with Nevada."

Hours of pointing and synchronized oohs' and aahs passed while the two watched the celestial performance. A large fireball of pure white streaked across the sky.

"That might be the last one of the night." California said, breaking the dream-like state.

"We can still see the stars though." Oregon didn't want to leave, it was all too perfect.

Oregon didn't know how long he and California stayed after the comet show. To him, it seemed only to be five minutes. He finally turned his attention away from the skies to make sure California wasn't bored. When he turned his head he found she wasn't where she was a few hours before. He almost panicked until he heard her shallow breath.

She was right next to him, touching him in fact. Her head rested gently on his chest, the rest of her body close to his own. His face flushed, and for a moment he seriously considered pushing her off. However, her sleep looked so peaceful. How could he even think of that?

California let out a small yawn in her sleep and curled up a little, her head still on Oregons' chest. Oregon let out an understanding sigh. They could stay like this for now, leaving wasn't too urgent. Perhaps, when the sun rose, they could watch clouds.


End file.
